Tuesday April 22, 2008
The realistic movie playing in my apartment is running in slow motion. The questions running in the field of flowers within my minds biogrophy of daily rituals, have touched the electrodes of negative impressions and are tugging ever so rigorously to get my attention. Without a form of income to take up the empty nest syndrome of time, I am left with a waterfall of words, smiles and enthusiasm with no place or no one to partake of the sweet aroma of me. Come into my parlor says the enthusiasm filled woman to others looking for something to put between the programs of daily life.